


Gods and Monsters

by starkly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkly/pseuds/starkly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an AU where Tony is an Asgardian prince and Loki is a billionaire genius, Tony and Loki's penthouse conversation goes a little differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gods and Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> A quick role reversal fic written for a friend with no real excuse except to literally just swap Tony and Loki's places and see what happens. I shouldn’t have had as much fun with this as I did.
> 
> Originally written October 2012.

The tower housing the current headquarters of Laufeyson Inc. is impressive, Tony will give them that. Nothing quite as fine as the architecture of Asgard, but then, not much in Midgard really comes close. Tony’s always had a fondness for the looming citadels and golden domes of Asgard, and they fit him perfectly. By contrast, Jotunheim’s icy spirals and crumbling fortifications are downright depressing, for more reasons than the obvious.

Tony drags a hand across the smooth countertop of the bar in the Laufeyson penthouse, fingers lingering on the intricate coasters stacked at the end. Part of him wonders who would waste time and money on fancy coasters - or who would even use them in the first place; Asgard isn’t well known for its proper dining manners - but if he’s being honest, it’s exactly the sort of thing he would do himself. Pointless extravagance for the sake of extravagance.

"Can I help you?" someone says behind him. 

Tony doesn’t startle, just drops his hand from the pile of coasters and leans against the counter lazily. Loki Laufeyson stands across the room, hands clasped behind his back and clearly unconcerned that there’s a Norse god standing in his penthouse. Tony’s mildly impressed that Loki isn’t wearing the infamous Iron Man armor - instead he’s got on slacks and a plain black shirt, unbuttoned just enough that Tony can see the blue glow of the arc reactor peeking out. He feels the inexplicable need to tug at the dark shirt, push it away to see how the shade of his non-glamoured skin compares to the blue of the reactor.

"I’m surprised you found me," he says, wishing not for the first time that his Asgardian clothes had pockets so he’d have something to do with his hands. He settles on tapping his fingers against the counter, beating out an uneven rhythm.

"You aren’t that hard to figure out," Loki replies, just the right amount of disinterest in his tone to keep Tony hooked. Not that it was very hard. Mortals were strange beings, and it fascinated Tony. The fact that Loki could even pretend not to care what was going on here, well, let’s just say it piqued Tony’s interest.

"I’d hate to think I was that predictable."

"Your brother’s shared enough about your exploits to figure you out easily."

Tony’s shoulders tense involuntarily at that, and he can’t help the little snarl in his voice as he snaps, “That man’s not my brother.”

"Yes, he said you were adopted." Loki smiles, or at least Tony assumes it was supposed to be smile. Right now it looks a bit like a sneer. "Anthony Stark, unwanted prince of Asgard."

Tony grips the counter so tightly part of the stone comes off in his hand. He tosses the piece aside carelessly, taking a deep breath and visibly relaxing. He reaches for the decanter of wine sitting on the counter, picking up it and one of the nearby wine glasses.

"Feel free to help yourself," Loki says dryly. As if Tony was actually going to wait for his permission. He pours himself a glass, all the way to the top.

"I’d prefer something a little stronger, but I have to admit, Midgardian wine is truly something else."

"If you’d had any patience, you would have found the stronger stuff right behind you."

Tony shrugs, wine sloshing in the glass but not spilling. “Instant gratification suits me better.”

"Of course. And what sort of gratification do you get by opening a portal into space from the top of my tower?"

"Ah, you’ve figured it out already." Tony pauses, sipping at his drink. Loki hasn’t moved, still standing near the doorway. "I do know better than to reveal my master plan ahead of time. As much as I enjoy talking, I think I’ll, oh, what’s your phrase? Keep it under wraps."

He grins at Loki, lips reddened by the wine and teeth gleaming white. Unlike most people, Loki doesn’t turn away. He stares back, watching Tony intently, and for the first time Tony wonders if he’s actually met his match. The thought is brief, fleeting, and then it’s gone, another ridiculous idea floating away in the hurricane of his mind.

"As lovely as this chat is, I’d like to speed things along." Tony downs the rest of the wine in one go, throwing aside the empty glass like he had the piece of countertop. He steps out from behind the bar, crushing the bits of glass beneath his boots. "Things to do, people to see, worlds to conquer."

"You know," Loki says slowly, making Tony stop and regard him curiously, "it’s cute how you think you’re going to win this."

Tony laughs, angry and quick, the sound harsh against the quiet of the room. “Is this where you give me the speech about how you and your little friends are going to stop me? The Avengers Initiative, wasn’t it? If anyone’s being cute here, it’s you.”

Tony takes a single step forward and appears right in front of Loki with a flash of red smoke, the distance between them gone in a blink of an eye. Loki doesn’t react save for a slight raise of an eyebrow at Tony’s theatrics. 

To Tony’s annoyance, Loki is taller than him, the difference especially prominent when he’s this close. It’s a minor annoyance, however, and it doesn’t stop him from gazing up at Loki through lowered lashes and adding, “Very cute indeed.”

He gives in to his earlier desire, fingers curling around the collar of Loki’s shirt and pulling. The arc reactor is even more fascinating close up, and Tony’s fingers graze against its casing. He can hear Loki’s mangled heart speed up at the touch, and his soft smile turns predatory. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to pull it out. Yet.”

And he tugs harder on Loki’s shirt, drawing him down into a kiss. Loki doesn’t resist either movement, but he doesn’t kiss back. That’s never stopped Tony before, and he raises a hand to wrap it around the back of Loki’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair. A sharp tug at the dark locks has Loki gasping slightly, giving Tony just enough space to slip his tongue into Loki’s mouth.

It’s then that Loki reacts, hands moving to grip Tony’s shoulders. But instead of pushing him away, he draws him closer til they’re flush against each other, Tony’s hand trapped between their chests. He lightly bites Tony’s tongue, causing Tony to growl and draw back. 

Tony doesn’t look irritated, however. There’s a feral sort of grin on his face and a flush to his cheeks, and this is the most open he’s let himself look to anyone on Midgard yet. “Oh, how I wish I could stay and play with you,” he says somewhat mournfully. “Maybe I’ll come back and kill you myself when I’ve taken care of everything else. I hate wasting such good opportunities.”

Loki, surprisingly (or unsurprisingly?) doesn’t seem too concerned about that. Tony’s starting to realize this is a trend. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?”

Tony licks the bared skin of Loki’s neck, biting at his collarbone to emphasize his point. “That’s likely just a Midgardian thing.”

"That, or your mother never cared much about you."

It’s like a million things shatter in Tony’s mind all at once, all his plans and his memories and his insecurities and his needs. He freezes, mouth just inches above the arc reactor, and when he finally speaks, it’s with a hard edge to his voice.

"Change of plans, I’m killing you now."

His hand on the back of Loki’s neck tightens, pulling him away. Tony may not be as strong as Thor, but he’s certainly stronger than a mere mortal, and it doesn’t take long to push Loki to the edge of the room. Conveniently, there are floor-length windows everywhere, and Tony would admire the design choice if he wasn’t busy being furious.

"I’d say I regret having to do this," he says, squeezing Loki’s neck to stop him from struggling, "but I really don’t."

It’s easy enough to throw Loki through the nearest window, reveling in the way the glass shatters and in the shout that escapes Loki’s lips before he disappears over the edge. For a moment it’s just silence, blissful silence, and then Tony has to step to the side as something zooms past him and down the side of the building.

He sighs, not surprised at all, stepping up to the very edge just in time to see the Iron Man suit assemble itself around Loki’s body. The repulsors kick in and Loki rolls in midair, avoiding hitting the ground with a grace that Tony can’t help but appreciate. Iron Man arcs swiftly upward, a green and silver blur against the clear blue sky. Tony has just enough time to pick up his staff from on top of the bar’s counter before Loki’s back, hovering in the space where the window used to be.

The fight must go on, he supposes, as it always does. Even against mortals as intriguing as Loki is. Damn shame about the attitude, though. Tony _really_ doesn’t like being blasted with those repulsor beams.


End file.
